The Admiral and the Baronne
by Violet-Amy
Summary: Brittany just can't seem to leave Sam alone during a weekend they spend alone at her house together. Well, she can't leave a certain part of him alone. From a GKM prompt. Roughly 90% porn, 10% silliness, 0% plot.
1. Chapter 1

They're no sooner through the front door—it's still standing open, in fact—when Brittany pushes Sam up against the wall of the foyer and starts unbuckling his belt, announcing, "I have been waiting _so long_ for this!"

In reality it's been less than twenty-four hours since Brittany last had her hands (among body parts) on Sam's dick. But, to be fair, sitting through a whole day of school knowing her favorite thing in the world is super close yet totally off limits is very stressful.

"Oh, fuck, Britt." Sam leans back against the wall as his girlfriend opens his jeans and pushes them down past his hips. He's vaguely aware that he should care that anyone who might happen to walk by could theoretically see what she's doing to him—though, actually, that knowledge is kind of a turn-on. Any guy in the world would kill to be him right now, he thinks, as Brittany gets down on her knees in front of him. Any girl too, probably.

Brittany licks her lips as she admires Sam's cock. It's not that she doesn't love, and sometimes still miss, Santana's pussy, but there's something about a hard, thick cock that's just…well, there's no substitute for it. Or…there _are_ substitutes, but they're honestly not as good. And _Sam's_ is the prettiest one she's ever seen. Some people might say she just thinks so because she went so long without any, but then those people probably haven't seen Sam's.

It's thick and long and so solid and, like, heavy, but it still stands up so straight, like it's really strong, really alert, really eager. It turns the prettiest shade of bright pink when it's really excited. And it twitches, just a little, when she breathes hard on it.

Yep, definitely Brittany's favorite thing in the whole wide world. And she's _so_ horny right now. Seeing Sam's dick, after a long time of not, does that to her. She wants more than anything to jump on it and let him fuck her senseless. But, still, she can't quite resist tasting it first.

Just a little, she tells herself. Just a quick little taste before she climbs him like a tree and drops down on his cock, burying it inside herself. Just one teeny, tiny little lick.

But who is she kidding? That first little lick across his slit tastes _so_ good, so warm and masculine, and how can she stop when she's just had a hint? Before she even remembers her whole just-one-lick plan she's got her lips wrapped around the shaft and she's sucking on it hard.

Sam groans. This is by far not the first time Brittany has gone down on him, but he still can't believe how much she actually likes it. She's down there on her knees moaning like crazy like _she's_ the one getting pleasured. It's…it's mind-blowing, really.

And his mind isn't the only thing that's going to blow.

He absolutely shouldn't blow yet. He knows this. Brittany's only been sucking him for like a minute or two.

But, in his defense, Sam's been popping boners on and off all day, because every time he'd see Brittany she'd talk about everything she was planning on doing to him this weekend, and on three separate occasions she guided his hand up under her skirt and inside her panties so he could feel how wet she was just thinking about it. And then the drive over here! Even without touching her at all (Brittany's a scary enough driver without added distractions), he was rock hard pretty much the entire time thanks to Brittany's dirty mouth…her dirty and _talented_ mouth, which he's now enjoying.

That's the real reason he shouldn't blow so soon. Not because it's embarrassing to be able to last such a short time—which it would be if Brittany didn't always take it as a compliment—but because of what she was saying in the car, about needing his dick in her pussy right away. Which, you know, sounds really good to him too. So even though what she's _doing_ now _feels_ really, really good, he has to be careful not to enjoy it _too_ much.

But, god, how can he not? Brittany's sucking him so hard, and she's got this perfect rhythm of alternating between the head and the shaft, and she's stroking him and kneading his balls, and it's just _amazing_.

Knowing he's licked, Sam realizes the only way to control himself is to get Brittany to stop what she's doing. "Britt," he forces himself to say. "Britt, wait."

She doesn't stop, though. She doesn't even slow down, not even a little.

Sam tries again. "Fuck, Britt, if you keep that up I'm gonna…I'm gonna…oh, fuck…"

Brittany perks up and starts sucking even harder. She knows what Sam is gonna, even without him finishing his sentence, and she wants him to more than anything. His dick is her favorite thing in the world, but what comes out of it is her second-favorite, and she wants a big, creamy load of it in her mouth so bad.

Oh no, Brittany didn't hear his warning and she's not going to stop. Sam should try again, but…but… "Oh god!" he braces himself against the wall and bucks up into her warm, wet mouth.

Brittany squeals in delight when she feels the first blast of hot, salty cum hit the roof of her mouth. It tastes _so_ good; she can never get enough. It's shooting into her mouth in such strong bursts. She loves that, it means Sam really needed the release, it means she's making him feel as good as he's making her feel.

She doesn't swallow it right away. She waits until the spurting stops and then she gives one last little suck just to make sure she got it all. Then she closes her eyes and rolls her head around, letting the tangy cum coat every part of the inside of her mouth. So thick and delicious, she _loves_ it. Finally she swallows it with a satisfied groan.

Opening her eyes, she looks up to smile at her adorable boyfriend. But…wait, he isn't smiling. "Why aren't you smiling, Sammy?"

He strokes her hair and says, "I'm sorry, Brittany."

"Sorry? For what?"

"Because I came too soon. I know you wanted me to fuck you."

"Yeah, but what do you think we have the house to ourselves all weekend for?" Technically her parents didn't go away for the weekend just so she could sex up her boyfriend for two and a half days straight, but it's the only aspect of their trip that she's interested in. Honestly she can't even remember where they said they were going.

"But you said you wanted it right away."

"I know I'm impatient, Sammy, but that only took like a minute."

Sam's about to object that he's pretty sure he lasted more than _one minute_ , but of course that's not the point. "Yeah, but now I'm not ha-…ha-…" Oh god! Oh god, she's sucking him again already. It's too soon! No, it's too much! He grabs two fistfuls of her hair and stammers, "Wha-…what…"

"I'm helping you get hard again, obviously," she explains, beaming at him.

And then she lowers her head to his cock again, and he tries to back away but he can't because the wall is in his way. She slurps the tip back up into her mouth, and Sam manages to shout, "No!" and pull her head back.

She gives him this puzzled look. "What's wrong?"

"You can't do that yet, baby. I just came and…"

Still with the puzzled look.

"It's too…Well, like, how would you like it if I made you come, and then _right_ after that I started sucking on your clit?"

"God, that sounds amazing." Just the suggestion sends a gush of fluids straight to her pussy. "Will you do that sometime this weekend, Sammy? Please?"

Damn it, Sam keeps forgetting that girls' orgasms are totally different from guys'. Or at least Brittany's are. "Yeah, of course I will, baby. But my dick doesn't work like that. It's really sensitive after I come, and—"

"But you _want_ it to be sensitive, don't you? Otherwise you wouldn't feel anything and then it wouldn't be any fun for you at all."

"It's _too_ sensitive, though, and…" God, Sam has no idea how to describe how overwhelming it is to be touched there right now. "It just needs to rest a while. I'm sorry."

Brittany makes a pouty face at him. It's not like this is entirely news to her—although she tends to forget this sort of thing, other guys _have_ told her the same thing before. It's just that none of them had dicks quite as tempting as Sam's. "Can I at least do other stuff to you?" she asks hopefully.

"Yeah. Yeah, totally." Sam notices, as if for the first time, that they're in the foyer with the front door wide open. Jesus Christ, what were they thinking? He slides along the wall and, after checking the sidewalk for passersby, quickly pulls the door shut. "Or maybe I could maybe do some stuff to you? Like up in your room?"

Brittany nods eagerly. "I love _stuff_. It's like my fave." In one swift motion she pulls Sam's jeans and underwear down to his ankles. "Off," she orders.

Sam kicks his sneakers off first and then steps out of his pants. He had been planning on just pulling them up so he wouldn't trip going up the stairs, but this works too. Brittany picks them up once he's out of them, which is kind of surprising because she's not exactly the tidiest person he knows. What really surprises him, though, is when she opens the door and chucks them out into the rosebushes. "Britt!" he protests.

"Trust me," she says, winking at him, "you're not going to need them until Monday morning."

There are all kinds of reasonable objections Sam could make to this—like the fact that it's supposed to rain all weekend and he's kind of going to need _dry_ pants for school, or the fact that those roses have thorns that probably aren't doing his jeans any favors—but he doesn't have it in him to do any more than groan softly and chase his girlfriend up the stairs to her bedroom.

She's a couple steps higher than he is, putting her ass at right about his eye level. This reminds him that she actually hinted that she might let him do her in the ass this weekend! He's never done anyone in the ass—he'd never even considered it a real possibility until Brittany brought it up—and to say he's excited about the prospect is a huge understatement. He's probably not actually going to need that much of a break after all.

As soon as they're up in her room, Sam bends her over the bed and flips her Cheerios skirt up onto her back. He loves the sight of her ass like that, covered in the stretchy red Spandex or whatever that fabric is. Brittany moans and rubs herself against the edge of the mattress. "Thank god you're not actually going to make me wait," she says.

"Not _too_ long," Sam says, pulling her spanks and panties down to her knees. He kneels behind her and just looks. Her ass, Jesus. It's even better without the Spandex. So round. It's toned from all her dancing and cheering, but it still looks soft. The skin, especially, looks soft. He places one hand on each cheek and it feels even softer than it looks.

"Are you gonna put it in my butt, Sammy?" Brittany asks. "Because I'm into that, but I really, really want it in my pussy first."

"Don't worry, I'm gonna put it in your pussy. You just have to be a little patient, baby."

Brittany doesn't like being patient, and she whines a little. But what starts out as a whine of frustration soon turns to a whine of pleasure as she feels Sam's mouth on her inner thigh. His hands continue to stroke her ass while his mouth moves up until his tongue is lapping at her wet folds, then poking through and circling her clit.

A gush of Brittany's arousal floods Sam's senses. She's so warm and slippery inside, and her scent and taste have him light-headed. But it's probably her whining more than anything that has him fully hard again so soon. She just sounds so desperate. Desperate for _him_. No one has ever sounded like that because of him before.

He's well on his way to being desperate for her too, even though he just came a few minutes ago. But he's not quite at that point yet, and since she's not exactly complaining, he keeps going with his mouth. He gradually gets more insistent, more forceful, until his tongue is thrusting in and out of her cunt. She starts trying to hump the mattress at this, and he realizes there's nothing touching her clit anymore, which he remedies with two fingers.

Brittany immediately comes undone at that. Sam's tongue gets squeezed inside her clenching walls and coated with her slick fluids. She shrieks into the mattress, and Sam can feel her scream reverberate through her insides.

Unlike Sam, Brittany doesn't require any recovery time after an orgasm. So as soon she stops screaming, Sam stands up and nudges her legs a little farther apart. Without any further preliminaries, he slides his dick inside her pussy.

"Sammy," she gasps. "So good."

"Uh-huh," he agrees. He finds it difficult to carry on much of a conversation at times like this, times when he can't really think in words, times when all he can do is _feel_ the incredibly hot, wet cunt squeezing around his dick as he slams it in again and again.

"So good," Brittany mutters again. Having to wait all day for Sammy's dick to be inside her was super difficult, but it was worth it because it's there now and it's _so good_. She loves his cock so much. She loves how thick it is, how much it stretches and fills her, how it drags across her clit with every movement he makes. She loves how long it is, how it slams into this secret spot way far inside her that can't be reached with a tongue or fingers or anything else.

She loves how it's making her come already.

"Don't stop!" she manages to tell him before the sounds coming out of her revert to incoherent screams as she clutches the sheets and bucks back against him for all she's worth.

Sam knows what _don't stop_ means: it means Brittany doesn't want him to come yet because she's got more than one orgasm waiting to get out. He doesn't know if she has any idea how difficult it is for him to hold off when she's screaming like that and her pussy is spasming around him like it is. Sometimes he doesn't manage it—luckily she never gets mad—but he at least has a fighting chance this time since he just came such a short time ago. He just keeps slamming into her while trying not to notice how amazing her walls gripping his cock feel.

Brittany's orgasm subsides just long enough to give her a chance to catch her breath. Sam doesn't let up, because he's super good at fucking her just how she needs it, and one particular thrust hits her just right, and she's off again. Her throat is sore from screaming—which makes her think of how soothing a nice fresh load of cum would feel in it—and all she can do is whimper and bite down on the sheets as her body convulses with its third orgasm.

As she nears the very peak she senses that this is going to be it for her (for a while), and she manages to plead, "Sammy, Sammy, please come in me."

Thank god. Sam didn't know how much longer he could last, even if he did come earlier. He grips her hips tightly and allows himself to really feel the next couple…three… _four_ more thrusts before finally releasing his load with a groan and a shudder.

"Oh, god, yes," Brittany mutters. That gush of warm, creamy cum blasting inside her just as she hits her climax…god, it's the best. She feels so warm and content after. Sleepy.

Sam slumps over on her back and they both just lie there for a minute, breathing heavily. Finally, Sam suggests, "Nap?"

It's like he can read Brittany's mind. "Uh huh," she mutters happily. "Take off your shirt first," she adds, pulling off her own Cheerios top and then her bra. Leaving some clothes on during sex is one thing—sometimes there's too much urgency to bother taking them all off—but cuddle-naps pretty much have to be naked.

Sam drops his t-shirt on the floor and curls up around his girlfriend on the bed. She's already asleep before he pulls the blanket over them, and he follows her really shortly after.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam has a dream that he's at the dentist's, only it's not a real dentist, it's one of the dudes from _Full House_. And then Britney Spears is dancing around him for no reason, and then all of a sudden she's going down him!

So when he wakes up, it takes him a minute to realize that he's not actually in a dentist's chair, and Britney Spears is not actually blowing him. But Brittany S. Pierce actually is.

Not that he objects or anything—like, _at all_ —but he's still a little groggy and confused, and he finds himself asking, "What are you doing, babe?"

Brittany lifts her head and smiles at him, to the extent that she can really smile with her mouth full of his cock. She mumbles something, but he can't understand her at all.

"What?" he asks.

She removes his dick from her mouth this time—though she does keep stroking it—and says, "I said I woke up and my throat was still sore."

That supposed answer doesn't really explain anything, but by now Sam is awake enough to realize that her reason isn't really important and he'd be an idiot to interrupt her again. So he shuts his mouth and lays his head back on the pillow and lets Brittany S. Pierce do her thing.

And, god. The thing she's doing now is a super nice way to wake up.

Brittany's sorry for waking Sam up. He looks so cute when he sleeps. It's just, well, she really needs something thick and creamy in her throat after screaming so much during sex. And, yeah, her Sammy looks cute when he's sleeping, but his dick looks cutest when it's awake.

Not that she can see it at the moment, of course, but she can feel it waking up in her mouth, and that's even better. Plus it still tastes like her cum, and a little bit like his, although most of his is inside her. And soon there will be even more inside her!

She licks and licks until he's completely hard under her tongue, and then she licks some more. When he starts to moan she plays with his balls while continuing to lick. When he mumbles, "God, Britt," and starts to thrust, then she forms a tight seal around his dick and starts to really suck.

Sam's still not really thinking very clearly, which, given what it is he's been woken up to, isn't really that surprising. He doesn't even bother to wonder whether he should be trying to do something for Brittany while she's doing this for him, or whether he should be trying to last longer than he did the first time she did this for him this afternoon. No, he just lies there and enjoys it more and more until the inevitable creeps up on him and he announces, "I'm…I'm gonna…" And he doesn't finish the sentence because talking is just too much while he's unloading in his girlfriend's warm, wet mouth.

Brittany manages to position Sam's dick so that the blasts of his hot cum shoot directly at the back of her throat. It's not actually as soothing as she imagined. It actually stings a little, she's surprised to discover. But it's warm and creamy and delicious and she loves it, sting or no sting.

Of course, her throat is still sore. With Sam still naked and sprawled out on the bed, eyes closed, catching his breath, she asks, "You wanna go downstairs for some ice cream?"

It takes a minute for Brittany's non sequitur to penetrate Sam's orgasm-addled brain. But when he figures out what she just asked, it strikes him as a terrific idea. He's suddenly super hungry for some reason.

XOXOXO

"Is that guy a zombie?"

"No, babe, that's Daryl." They're watching _The Walking Dead_ , Brittany for the first time.

"A zombie can't be named Daryl?"

"I guess one could, but…Daryl is one of the main guys. One of the main survivors." Brittany still looks confused so he adds, "Regular humans."

He reaches behind Brittany for a blanket that's draped over the back of the couch. He doesn't normally get chilly easily, but he is still naked, since Brittany threw his pants out the front door, and he would have felt silly wearing a t-shirt and nothing else. Brittany's still naked too, and she cuddles under the blanket with him. She's kinda stealing it from him, in fact, but she's plenty warm all pressed up against him, so he doesn't complain.

"What about that Asian guy? Is he a zombie?"

"Glenn? He's my favorite! Cause, like, he used to be a pizza delivery guy, and you'd think that would be a job that wouldn't give you a lot of amazing powers, but you'd be wrong because he knows every single shortcut in the city and he's saved everyone's lives like a billion times because of it. And I used to be a pizza delivery guy, so if there's ever a zombie apocalypse in real life, now you know to stick with me."

"Of course I'd stick with you, babe," Brittany says, snuggling against his shoulder. "But, so…is he a zombie or not?"

"He's not." Sam kisses the top of her head. "Oh! There! _That_ guy is a zombie!" He points at the walker who just appeared out of nowhere. To the screen he adds, "Get him, Glenn!"

Poor Sammy, he doesn't even understand his own favorite show. That guy he just said is a zombie is actually one of the guys they call _walkers_ on this show. Even Brittany knows that and she _just_ started watching. She doesn't actually know why they call them that, since everyone walks on this show; there isn't a single robot anywhere, so Artie probably wouldn't like it. She'd ask Sam why they're called that, but he clearly knows even less about what's going on than she does, so she just pats his shoulder.

Brittany's quiet for a while, just cuddling with him under the blanket, which makes it easier to pay attention to the show. Until Sam feels her holding his dick, which makes it suddenly kinda difficult to pay attention to the show. She doesn't seem to be trying to start anything, but just the fact that her hand is on it is pretty fucking distracting. He tries to sound casual as he asks, "What are you doing down there, Britt?"

"Down where? Oh, you mean with Admiral Rodney? I was just seeing if he thinks this show is boring. It turns out he does."

Okay, so, zero parts of that made any sense.

"What?" Sam asks. He pauses the show because he just has a feeling it might be a while till he figures this out.

"I said he does."

"Who does?"

"Admiral Rodney," she says, patting his dick.

"You, uh…you named my dick Admiral Rodney?"

"No, _I_ didn't name him that. It's just his name. You didn't even know your own penis's name?"

"Uh…no."

"Maybe because you can't get your ear right up next to his mouth like I can. He talks kinda quiet."

"Yeah, that must be it."

"You should probably start stretching more so you can be flexible enough to talk to him yourself. But I can tell you what he's saying, if you want."

"He's talking now?"

"I don't know, baby. I'm way up here," Brittany explains patiently. "You want me to ask him?"

"Sure."

Brittany puts her head in Sam's lap and says something to Admiral Rodney. It's pretty much just a whisper, so Sam can't hear what she's saying, although he can feel her breath against his dick. She looks up and relays the message: "He says no offense but your show is super boring, and yes offense but Brittany already _told_ you I think it's boring so why are you bothering me again, asking me what I already told you?"

Sam knows he's not always the quickest at taking a hint, but he is now 100 percent certain that they are not going to watch any more _Walking Dead_ this weekend. And that's totally fine with him. He turns the TV off and flings the remote onto an empty chair. "So, it's a bother having Brittany talk to you, Rod?" Sam asks.

"That's _Admiral Rodney_ to you, civilian!" Admiral Rodney snaps. Well, it's Brittany, obviously, but she's made her voice really deep and sort of…British, maybe? Also she's moving Admiral Rodney around as "he" talks. "And no, it's no bother at all talking to Brittany. Brittany is loverly."

"Yeah," Sam agrees. "I think Brittany is lovely too."

"I'm much more interested in Brittany than in that stupid, boring, non-robot TV show."

"I did notice that you're starting to, uh…salute for Britt," Sam says.

"It's very admirable of my Roddy, don't you think?" Brittany says.

"So you get to call him Roddy but I have to use his full rank and serial number and everything?"

"What can I say? He likes me." And then, illustrate that the admiration is mutual, she gives Admiral Rodney a little kiss.

"I think he also likes…uh, does your pussy have a name too?"

"Of course."

Sam waits, but Brittany doesn't elaborate. He has to ask, "What is it?"

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" Brittany twists around so she's suddenly lying back on the couch with one leg up on the back rest and the other foot on the floor with the blanket.

"Okay," Sam says nervously. He loves getting up close and personal with Brittany's pussy, but he's not quite sure how this is supposed to work. He leans down and hovers over her crotch and says, "Hey, baby. What's your name?"

And he waits. He was hoping that Brittany would say a name, but she's not doing that.

So he tries again. This time he strokes her lips first, making Brittany gasp just a little, and plants a little kiss. "Hi, sweetheart. My name is Sam. I mean, maybe you already know that; we've already met many times. But, uh, I didn't catch your name all those times." He waits, looking up expectantly at Brittany.

"You gotta put your ear right up to her mouth, baby," Brittany advises, spreading her legs wider.

"Okay." If someone had asked Sam yesterday what part of his body he thought he was least likely to touch his girlfriend's pussy with, _ear_ might very well have been his answer. But here he is, huddled over her crotch, head between her legs, with one ear actually in between her folds, getting damp with her juices.

He still doesn't hear anything, though, except for Brittany's blood flowing (or maybe his own), and Brittany moaning softly. He wonders if she has an ear kink or if she'd just moan at any part of him touching her there. Probably the latter, he thinks. But just in case, he sits up and asks, "You wanna taste yourself on my ear?"

"Totally!" Brittany does not, in fact, have an ear kink, but she does like to taste herself on Sam.

Sam scoots up so he can present his ear, and she licks at it. It doesn't taste _that_ much like her pussy, but she does like that Sam has to lie on top of her for her to reach it. She takes a final nip at his earlobe and then whispers, "So did she tell you her name?"

Sam guesses, "Brittany Junior?"

"Oh, Sam," Brittany sighs. She wriggles a little under him and grabs his ass to shift him so Admiral Rodney is pressing against her right where she likes him. "If you can't understand her accent, just say so."

"I can't understand her accent."

"Her name is Baronne Henriette de Snoy."

Sam is pretty sure he's not going to be able to remember that. Also he doesn't care a lot at the moment, because Brittany's groping his ass, and she's moving around under him, and his "admiral" is totally at attention now and it's right up next to her "baroness" or whatever. "So, royalty, huh?" Sam asks, slowly grinding against her.

Brittany sucks in a quick breath. "Uh-huh."

"I should have known." Sam keeps grinding rhythmically. "So, does she feel like…fraternizing? I mean, my guy's not royalty, but he is an officer, apparently."

"If _fraternize_ means _fuck_ , then she totally feels like doing that."

Brittany opens her legs wider and gasps lightly at the intrusion as Sam pushes in. She's always kind of shocked by how good it feels to have his cock stuffed up inside her. "Fuck," she mutters, "that's so good."

Sam usually loves to hear Brittany's dirty talk during sex. But he's suddenly afraid she might keep going with the admiral/baroness stuff, and he's not sure he wants to hear that _while_ he's fucking her. So he does the only logical thing he can to prevent that and kisses her deeply, thrusting into her mouth with his tongue as he thrusts into her cunt with his cock.

Brittany loves it. It's like being double-penetrated almost.

And it makes it harder to vocalize, which…that's always kind of an outlet for her, like something that helps relieve some of the excess pleasure. Not having that outlet just brings her to a boiling point even quicker.

Very, very soon, she's clawing at Sam's back and sucking on his tongue, groaning deep in her throat as an orgasm rips through her.

Sam manages to keep fucking her through it—even though she nearly swallows his tongue, even though her fingernails in his back send a sharp pain through him (which he actually likes quite a lot), even though her constricting walls squeeze his dick so fucking tight—because he's pretty sure he can make her come again if he keeps going.

And anyway he wants to keep going. Her pussy is so tight and wet and amazing that even though he knows how satisfying it will be to come in it again, he's not ready to be done fucking her yet.

Of course he can't fuck her quite as hard as he'd like while she's clamping down so tight on his cock. But as soon as he feels her start to relax around him, he maneuvers himself up onto his knees and lifts her ankles onto his shoulders. As he picks up speed and force, he gradually leans forward, pushing her legs back and wider apart.

Brittany's pretty flexible—not to mention relaxed and pliable—so she doesn't feel any discomfort from the way Sam is positioning her. Not until she's basically folded in half with her legs spread as wide as the back of the couch will allow, anyway, when she does feel a slight burn in her stretched muscles. But by then she couldn't care less; all she cares about is that Sam is nailing her so hard right now, and she's totally pinned so she can't move, and his tongue is still ravishing her mouth so she can't even scream, and all she can do is lie there and take it, which is all she wants to do because it's so fucking perfect.

Sam is able to keep going longer than he normally would, thanks to the multiple orgasms he's already had in the span of a few hours. He's able to keep going until Brittany climaxes again. She digs her fingernails into his arms this time—hard enough that he thinks she's drawn blood—and he screams, and as soon as he screams, she screams too, which is so, so hot, and he falls apart with her— _in_ her—shooting his load deep inside her clenching channel.

Spent and exhausted, he collapses on top of her. He realizes she must be really uncomfortable with her legs splayed out unnaturally and his weight on top of her, so he tries to move off of her.

She stops him though. "Wait a little," she says carefully, as if speaking requires a lot of effort.

"Okay," he says, happy to stay still. But then he asks, "Why?"

"If you move, your cum will leak out. And I like it inside my pussy so much."

"Oh. Okay." He lazily kisses the side of her neck.

After a little while, though—and he's not sure how long it is; he may have dozed off a little—she taps his shoulder and says, "I guess we have to move. I'm getting a cramp."

So Sam hops up off the couch. "Can I massage it for you?"

"No, it's fine, just help me stand."

He extends his hand and pulls her up. Standing there naked, he feels the cold air on his skin, and he realizes it feels so cold because he's all sweaty. Brittany is too, he can see. "I think I could use a shower," he says. "If you want one too I'll let you go first."

Brittany makes a pouty face at him. "You don't want to shower _with_ me?"

"I love showering with you, babe. But we already…I mean, we _just_ …"

"Well, I don't want to shower by _myself_. I'm not going to wash all your cum out if you're not going to fill me up with more."

Sam groans. "Okay. Maybe _I'll_ just take a shower then." After all, if Brittany doesn't care if she's a little sweaty, why should he?

And Brittany doesn't care if she's a little sweaty. But, sitting on her bed hearing the water running in the bathroom, she _does_ care that her Sammy is actually showering without her. So she goes in and joins him.

And, it takes a little work on her part, but she manages to exit the shower with a brand new, fresh load of cum replacing the one that got washed away.


	3. Chapter 3

Saturday morning Sam wakes up to the feeling of Brittany's hand on his dick. Her hand and…something else that he can't identify. It's not exactly unpleasant, but it is sort of weird. He looks down, but her head and shoulder are in the way. "What's going on?" he asks, still groggy.

"It's a surprise," she says. "Close your eyes, and no peeking!"

"But you know how much I like watching you do stuff down there," Sam protests.

"Close your eyes or I won't do it," Brittany says. "In fact, now that I don't trust you not to 'accidentally' peek, you have to blindfold yourself with…that pillowcase."

Sam pretends to object, but Brittany knows he actually loves to be blindfolded when she does stuff to him. And sure enough, even while "complaining" about how mean she is, he takes the case off the pillow and ties it around his eyes really quickly.

There's still one thing, though: her plan isn't going to work until Sam is hard. Luckily that's easy enough.

Oh, Brittany's sucking him! Fuck, that's good. So good that Sam's not even disappointed that it hardly qualifies as a surprise.

She gets him nice and hard. Well, kind of beyond that, actually. She meant to stop as soon as he was just hard enough, but, well, she just likes having Sam's dick in her mouth, okay? It feels so good in there and it tastes so good, and the little moans he makes are just the cutest. She does make herself stop, though, when he starts thrusting. Not that she doesn't love that too, but she really wants a special breakfast treat. (Even specialer than just his cum, though that's a classic and probably her all-time favorite treat. But she plans to have that too, so not to worry.)

Sam whines when she stops. He's about to ask what's wrong when he feels that thing again—that thing he'd actually completely forgotten about—rubbing against his cockhead. He mentally compares it to the other stuff Brittany has at some point rubbed against his junk, all of which he can rule out: it's not a liquid; it's not scratchy enough to be lace; it's not soft or light enough to be a feather. Oh, this is interesting, though: he can feel it all the way around the tip of his dick, surrounding it.

Brittany pushes the thing a little farther down his dick and it's tight for like half a second and then she goes, "Shit!"

"Shit!?" Sam repeats, sitting up. It's not a word he likes to hear when he's blindfolded and Brittany's doing stuff to his cock.

"It broke," she says sadly.

" _What_ broke?" Sam tears off the blindfold, not stopping to think first that his penis couldn't have just "broken" without him even feeling it. He looks down and sees three chunks of what he gathers used to be a doughnut. "I'm sorry, babe," he says. "Um…you were gonna have me fuck a doughnut?"

"That would be kind of weird," Brittany says. Not that there's anything wrong with weirdness, in her opinion, but that particular weird thing never even occurred to her. "But no, I was gonna put it on you like a ring and then eat it off." She bought the doughnut special just for this—a plain one, so Sam wouldn't get sugar or frosting or anything in his pubes. She's thoughtful like that.

"Oh, okay. Yeah, that sounds way hotter."

"I mean, I know your dick is way too big for the tiny little hole, but I hoped it would stretch like my pussy does."

"But, Britt, your pussy is like a magical thing. You know there's nothing like it."

"That's true," she says. "I guess I should be glad it didn't work. If it had maybe you'd figure out you _could_ just fuck doughnuts and you wouldn't need me at all anymore."

"Now you're just being silly." Sam brushes the hair away from Brittany's face and looks in her eyes. "I mean, you _are_ just joking around, right? You know I love you for more than your pussy?"

Brittany melts a little because, yeah, she was totally just joking. Most of the guys she's been with _have_ pretty much just been interested in Henriette, but she already knows that Sam is different. Still, it's sweet that he wants to be sure she knows. "Aw, I know that, Sammy," she says. And she whispers in his ear, to avoid hurting the feelings of Admiral Rodney, "I love you for more than your dick too. Even though I like it a _lot_."

"Well, I'm sorry you can't eat your breakfast off it."

"Yeah." Brittany sighs. But suddenly the idea of something just as good—better even, maybe—perks her up. "Lay down again," she says, pushing on Sam's chest.

She wants really bad to take his cock in her mouth again. But she knows that once she's got a taste she's not going to be able to stop sucking until he comes in her mouth, which isn't where she wants him to do it this time. So, using all her self-control—and reminding herself that they still have two full days and she'll have lots of time for tasting—she just strokes him.

Sam lies back and moans. You'd think that now that his dick is frequently inside Brittany's mouth and her pussy, having it just in her hand would be no big deal, but you'd be dead wrong. Her fingers are, like…they're not _as_ magical as her pussy, but they're pretty fucking amazing. She starts with a light, almost teasing touch, just grazing over his shaft and tickling his balls. Then she's smearing his pre-cum around the head and wrapping her fingers around him in a tight circle, and before he knows it she's got him gasping and fucking up into the ring of her strong fingers.

Brittany knows Sam is about to come when the skin on his balls gets all crinkly. She grabs the doughnut chunks and positions them just in time to watch the milky globs of cum spurt out and land like delicious icing.

Sam shudders and sighs. Brittany is really awesome at waking him up. He opens his eyes and she's holding a piece of the doughnut, which he'd completely forgotten about, in front of his face. It looks a little...wet. "Britt…?"

"This is gonna be so delicious," Brittany predicts right before she takes her first bite. And it is, it's _so_ delicious! The doughnut itself is bland and just a little sweet, just sweet enough to provide a nice contrast to the saltiness of Sam's cum that she loves so much. And the cum hasn't soaked in that much, so it's still got that warm, slippery feel she loves. She gobbles it down greedily.

"I'm sorry!" she says as soon as she realizes she's eaten it all. "I forgot to save you a piece!"

"That's okay, babe," Sam assures her. He's pretty sure the doughnut his girlfriend just devoured was actually covered in his cum. It was totally hot to _watch_ her do it, but he doesn't feel bad at all that he didn't get any. "I'm not really that big a fan of tasting my own jizz. Unless it's a freshly deposited load inside your pussy."

"That is the best idea you've had all morning!" Brittany exclaims. Before Sam can object that he's not _quite_ ready for that yet, Brittany's mouth is trailing down his chest toward her favorite part of his body. He could tell her to stop, he guesses, but really as long as she takes a couple minutes to get there he should be okay. Or, well, more than _okay_ , obviously. "That's really good," he says as her tongue flicks at a nipple. And it is, too. "God, if you wanted to keep doing that for, like, a while, it would be awesome."

Brittany stares in Sam's eyes while continuing to flick at his nipple, as requested. She doesn't know if it's been a "while" yet when she breaks the news to him, "I don't wanna keep licking this one spot for too long, though, babe. There might be some spunk on your stomach or your chest, so I wanna lick _everywhere_." The possibility of Sammy-spunk drying up unappreciated is just too sad.

"Oh, okay. Yeah, I guess you'd better be thorough then." If there's one thing he can count on Brittany to be in pursuit of his spunk, it's thorough. He's going to be so ready when it's time to give her some more.

XOXOXO

Saturday is exhausting. It's, like, unbelievably awesome, but totally exhausting. Sam has no idea how many times he and Brittany do it during the day—so many variations of "it"—but he's glad that the last time he comes before conking out for the night it's in her pussy. He can't possibly have that much jizz left, which she would be more likely to notice if it were in her mouth. And he would have hated to disappoint her.

Sam falls asleep immediately after they both come, with his dick still inside her. And that's how he wakes up Sunday morning too.

Brittany tried to let him sleep in, she really did. It's just that she woke up super horny. After having pretty much nonstop sexy times yesterday, it's no wonder that she needs it bad after a nine-hour dry spell.

The poor guy is so tired that she almost feels bad about disturbing him. He moans and shifts a little when she starts sucking him, but he doesn't wake up, not even when she's got him fully hard. It's not until she's lowered herself onto his cock—god, what a relief!—and started rocking back and forth on it that he groans and opens his eyes halfway. He asks, "Are we still sleeping?"

"That's right, baby, go back to sleep. I just needed this really bad." It won't be the greatest sex if Sam sleeps through it, but it'll tide her over for a little while at least.

Sam doesn't sleep through it, however. Come on! He's tired, but he's not _that_ tired. Even if he were just dreaming this, it would the kind of dream that would jolt him awake, desperate to fuck her for real.

He opens his eyes fully and gazes up at his gorgeous girlfriend moving up and down on his cock. God, look at the way her tits are bouncing. He's gotta touch them. And when he does, she kind of grinds her chest against his hands, and her nipples turn into hard little pebbles right under his fingertips, and she goes, "God, that's good, Sammy. I take it back; don't go to sleep." As if he would want to!

He does let her do most of the work, though, and not just because he's not fully awake yet. No, it's just that the way she's riding him and squeezing him is so perfect, he doesn't think anything he could do could possibly make it any better. Especially when she starts to come on his cock.

The orgasm overtakes her suddenly. She squeezes and grinds and thrashes as it tears through her. And Sam can't just lie there anymore, not when she's doing all this on his dick. Not that he's exactly aware that he's pumping up into her…not until she's been quiet for a second and then a particularly strong thrust makes her gasp again. "Sorry!" he says, but she shakes her head and says, "More."

Now _she's_ tired, he can tell, so he rolls them over so she can relax and just take it for a while. And of course so he can do more than that, because he's had enough of just lying there.

Sam's so good at this— _god_. He's hitting her deep, hidden spot just right. "Right there," she encourages him, speaking in a low whisper so as to save her voice for the impending screaming. She grabs his ass and pulls him deeper into her for further encouragement.

He urges her legs a little wider, and something about the change in position or angle or whatever sets her off. "Oh fuck!" are the only two actual words she's able to get out, and then it's just wailing and wailing and wailing until her throat is raw.

Sam should probably be able to keep going longer, given how many loads Brittany pulled out of him yesterday, but her sex screams just get to him too much, or maybe it's the way her tight little twat is actually tugging his cock in tighter and deeper, but whatever it is, he loses it seconds after she does. "F-f-fuck," he stutters as he releases his hot load.

It's the first of what will be many today; Brittany barely leaves his dick alone for a second. She's all over it even more today than she was yesterday or Friday night, which Sam didn't really think was possible.

But like after breakfast. Brittany wants to read the newspaper comics to him—which she walks right out onto the front porch, naked, to get, standing there in the rain separating them from the rest of the newspaper, which she leaves on the porch to get soaked—and she insists that he sit on her lap for it, and the whole time he's sitting on her lap she's got one hand on his dick, like just idly toying with it. He doesn't even think she's trying to get him hard, but of course she does…before she's even through reading _Dilbert_ to him, in fact. In the middle of _Blondie_ he begs her to use both hands; by the time they reach _The Family Circus_ he can barely hold the paper steady, much less look at it; and he's no sooner turned the second page (after Brittany having to tell him several times to do it) than he's shooting his wad all over _Hägar the Horrible._

And she doesn't even stop! She wipes his cum off the paper and sucks it off her fingers, and then she keeps right on reading to him. She doesn't even take her other hand off his dick, and it doesn't feel nearly as good now _after_ he's come. It's like…it's not exactly _bad_ , it doesn't exactly _hurt_ , but it's…it's almost like being tickled too much. His instinct is to fly out of her lap so she won't be able to do it anymore, and he would, except he's all relaxed and sluggish after coming, plus he doesn't want her to think he doesn't like her touching him there, like, 99 percent of the time. So he just squeezes his eyes shut and sucks on his lower lip until it stops feeling so overly tickly. By the time Brittany's finished reading the last comic it feels good again, and when she eases him off her lap into his own chair and then kneels in front of him and puts it in her mouth, that feels really, really good. So then when _she_ sits in _his_ lap…yeah, Sam ends up filling her with another load while she comes on his cock again, and he's really glad he didn't try to make her stop touching it.

And the rest of the day goes pretty much the same way. Except for a couple quick naps and breaks to eat and go to the bathroom, Brittany's constantly doing stuff to Sam's dick. He manages to bounce back from the too-tickly feeling each time, until they do it in the shower that evening and Sam goes so weak-kneed after coming in her that he actually falls onto the shower floor, and, yeah, it's also partially because he slipped on some soap, but he knows he's really done this time.

After they get out of the shower Sam suggests that they go to bed. Brittany thinks that's a great idea. They've done it all over the house today _except_ the bed. Well, first thing this morning, but that was a long time ago. And some stuff is just easier and more comfortable to do in a big, soft bed than on a little ottoman or on the hard kitchen floor.

But then when they get in bed and Brittany snuggles in close and reaches down to stroke his cock, Sam takes her hand and says, "I meant…we should go to _sleep_ now."

What!? "But Sammy," she explains patiently, "it's not even eight o'clock yet."

Oh. Sam's so tired, he could have sworn it was a lot later. "I'm just not up for any more," he pleads, not sure whether he intended the pun or not. "I'm sorry, baby, I just…Admiral Rodney needs some rest."

"Oh, okay." Brittany tries to be understanding and not pout. She could play with Rodney all day and all night, but if he needs to rest, he needs to rest. "You're not really going to go to sleep yet, though, are you?"

"Well…"

"Let's watch a movie at least. I promise I'll let the big guy rest."

"Uh…"

"I know just the movie!" Brittany announces, jumping out of bed. "It's this great musical; the glee club should really perform it some time," she calls out as she searches for the DVD in her closet. "You would make such a great Frankfurt. Or, no—Rocky!"

"Are you talking about _Rocky Horror_? Britt, we already—"

"Here it is!" she announces, waving the movie around as she steps out of the closet. "Now, I have to warn you: it's insanely sexy. But we'll be watching it for glee research purposes only." It's not like she's secretly hoping that the insane sexiness of the movie will make Admiral Rodney realize he's not so sleepy after all.

And it's a good thing that that wasn't her plan, because if it had been, it would be failing miserably. Sam doesn't react _at all_ , even during "Sweet Transvestite," and how is that even possible?

Sam knows that this whole movie thing is a bad idea. Brittany's getting all cuddly with him, which is awesome, except her hands are…she's keeping them away from his crotch so far, but just barely—one's on his upper thigh and the other's on his abs. And then during the transvestite song, she shifts and wraps her legs around one of his, and by the end of it she's sort of rubbing herself against his thigh. He's so screwed.

Except...not literally, because she's still keeping her hands off him. She's trying really hard, in fact, if the fact that her hands keep moving toward the forbidden zone and then backing off at the last second is any indication. It could mean she's deliberately trying to tease him, but Sam's pretty sure it actually just means that she's just…still horny, somehow.

Well, he guesses that _she_ shouldn't have to suffer just because _he's_ done for the night.

He starts to tease her nipples, all the while pressing his leg a little more firmly between hers. She starts to moan and hump his leg in earnest, and he slides his hand down onto her clit. She's so wet, and it shouldn't surprise him at this point…it _doesn't_ surprise him, exactly, but it still always kind of amazes him.

"Sammy," she moans, so relieved that he's touching her where she needs it. It's not just the movie that's got her all worked up or even mostly the movie; it's mostly just being in bed with her super hot naked boyfriend. She really was worried for a minute that he was actually going to go to sleep already, even though it's their last night of being able to do whatever they want with no interference.

Sam kisses her neck, then her chest. He's planning on working his way down so he can eat her out, but he gets distracted by her boobs. He just loves them, he loves how soft and yielding they are under his tongue, except the nipples, which are like hard little berries that just get harder and sweeter the longer he sucks on them. And that's as far down as he gets before Brittany's digging her (thankfully short) nails into his back in warning of an impending orgasm.

It turns out to be a tiny little orgasm, not even worthy of the name really. More of an aftershock, though it's not _after_ anything. Brittany's so bummed she almost wants to cry, because it really felt like it was going to be _big_. And she knows Sam is tired, but she still needs _more_ , and she begs him, "Please, Sammy. Please don't go to sleep yet!"

And he rolls away from her, and she thinks he _is_ going to go to sleep, but it's just for a second to turn off the TV (which Brittany had completely forgotten was on), and then he's scooting down to the foot of the bed and settling himself in between her legs and attaching those big, soft lips to her clit, and it's just what she needs and he really is the best boyfriend ever.

Sam isn't even sleepy anymore. He loves the tangy flavor of Brittany's sex juices, all her at first, and then mingled with his own cum the deeper he lets his tongue probe inside her snatch. Brittany's got her hands on his head, and she sometimes pulls his hair when he gets her in a spot she really likes, and it hurts a bit, but then she massages his scalp after, and he doesn't know if she's doing any of it on purpose but the whole thing is this weird combination of electrifying and soothing. He's still done for the night for himself, but he's totally happy to stay right here, eating his girlfriend out until one of them falls asleep.

Brittany comes again and again and again. They're not _tiny_ orgasms, they're totally nice and good and everything, and so she shouldn't be frustrated, but she just _knows_ there's a really big one in her still, somewhere. She wouldn't blame Sam at all if he did want to go to sleep at this point, but she's so grateful to him that he's not.

Sam does get tired. His mouth gets tired, that is, and his fingers get tired, and his neck gets a little crick in it from the not-quite-natural position he's been holding it in for so long. But he's still not sleepy, and god knows he's not bored. If anything he's starting to think maybe he's not totally done for the night after all. Brittany's just so fucking hot. Like her skin is literally all hot and sweaty, but it's way more than that, of course. It's the continual and frankly obscene gush of her fluids filling his mouth; it's her animalistic panting; it's the way she keeps bucking against his face and his fingers so desperately, like the multiple orgasms he's already given her aren't enough to satisfy her overpowering sexual need, but like she's on the verge of something epic that just might. He so wants to give her that epic something.

But it doesn't look like it's going to happen. She's been lingering there on the edge for a long time without going over. Sam's actually starting to question how much longer _he_ can keep going. He's determined to do everything he can before he even considers giving up, though. He shoves a couple fingers way up inside her cunt, so far that you couldn't really say he's still just _fingering_ her; you'd have to say he's finger- _fucking_ her. At the same time he starts to suck on her clit, hard, like the way she sucks his dick when she's dying for him to come.

Almost immediately Brittany's body goes rigid. Like seriously stiff as a board. And then it starts to tremble all over, and she mutters, "Oh, shit." She's just realized that the big one she was hoping for is here, and it might be bigger than she can handle. Which is going to suck if it's true, because there's no way she could stop it now.

It takes control of all her muscles, arching her off the bed, grinding her clit furiously against Sam's mouth and clamping down on his fingers as if convinced they were a real cock that she could squeeze the cum out of. But there's more than enough cum coming out of her, squirting out, drenching her boyfriend's face and her own thighs and the sheets. She's thrashing so hard that she can't even scream, it's all she can do to gasp for enough air to keep coming.

And she does, she keeps coming and coming, and Sam can barely breathe but he doesn't care, it's the hottest thing ever and he so wishes he were fucking her right now because her clenching pussy feels amazing on just his fingers, and if it were his dick instead, Jesus Christ. He's totally hard again, and he's _going_ to fuck her, just as soon as she comes down from her orgasm and relaxes enough for him to be able to get it in.

It ends as suddenly as it started, and Brittany collapses on the bed, completely limp. She feels as relaxed and content as she ever has in her life.

Sam comes up for air, resting his head on Brittany's hip. He strokes her side soothingly, trying to give her a minute to catch her breath even though he's dying to get back to it. He touches her inner thigh, where it's all wet from when she—he thinks she actually squirted, which he didn't even think was a real thing, and it's so amazing he wants to investigate the source. But when he separates her folds and just barely—accidentally, actually—lets one finger graze across her clit, she yelps and jerks back. "Baby, what's wrong?" he asks.

"I got shocked," she says. "What was that?"

"I just barely touched your clit."

"Well, don't do it again," Brittany says. "Wait, I can't believe I just said that. Except it feels really weird, it's like Henriette is telling me she wants to be left alone for a while. I don't understand it."

Except Sam does understand it. He never thought it would happen to Brittany, but he understands.

Still, that doesn't mean he's not disappointed. He does try not to actually whine when he says, "I really wanted to fuck you again."

Brittany's disappointed too. "I'm sorry, babe. Maybe…no, wait. You totally can."

"No, it's fine. I wouldn't even enjoy it knowing Henriette didn't want it."

"But Henriette doesn't have to be involved. Remember when we were talking about you fucking my ass?"

"Oh, Jesus, Britt." Sam has no idea how that idea ever managed to slip his mind, but he definitely remembers it _now_. "Are you sure, though?"

"Totally. In fact it's perfect, because I'm so relaxed it shouldn't take long to get me ready."

Brittany has to talk Sam through the whole "getting her ready" thing. "First, go get the lube from my top drawer, and when you come back with it, roll me over onto my stomach." Technically she could probably roll herself over, but she feels way too relaxed and comfy to want to move a muscle. Even talking is a little tiring, frankly, but she can't think of a way to avoid it. Sam comes back with the lube and rolls her over, and she says "Okay, now squirt some on your fingers and spread it around my hole."

Sam nudges Brittany's legs apart and palms her butt cheeks. "Jesus," he mutters as he takes a good look at what's in between them. He's spent a fair amount of time looking at his girlfriend's ass before, but not really her ass _hole_. It's so…so _little_.

He squirts some lube on his fingers—way too much, and some spills onto the sheets, but they're definitely going to have to be washed anyway, so he doesn't worry about it—and gently touches his fingers to Brittany's puckered little hole. He's about to ask if it's okay when she goes, "Mmm, yeah, just like that." So he rubs a little more on until she tells him, "Stick your finger in and rub some around on the inside…Oh yeah, that's good, keep twisting it around like that…"

Brittany's actually a little surprised by how good Sam's fingers feel in her. Not because she doesn't usually like butt stuff—she totally does—or because she doesn't usually like Sam stuff—she totally, _totally_ does!—but just because of how not-horny-anymore she was before he started. The only thing that's different now, really, from times when she is horny before they start, is that she's not impatient for more; she's just enjoying what he's doing for however long he wants to do it.

Sam's ready, he's _so_ ready to sink his cock inside her sweet little ass. But he's determined to wait until she says _she's_ ready. Though…is she waiting for him to ask? What if she's waiting for him to ask? It's not like her to be shy or anything, but, well, she is pretty tired, so…He's up to three fingers inside her and down to half a bottle of lube before he finally breaks down and asks, "So…is that enough, or…?"

"Yeah, totally. You want to fuck me now?"

" _Yes_! I mean…if you're ready."

"Silly. I just said I was." Brittany pulls her knees in under her and lifts her ass up for him. Holy fuck, she looks hot like this. Sam lines himself up behind her, holds onto her hips, and slowly, slowly pushes his cock through her tight little ring. "Fuck," he mumbles to himself. "Holy…holy fuck."

"Yeah," Brittany sighs. "It's good, right?"

" _So_ good," Sam agrees.

Brittany moans softly as Sam gradually fills her ass. It feels so good that she doesn't even mind that it's so slow.

"You okay, Britt?" Sam asks after a few minutes of light, careful pumping.

"Way better than okay," she says, before it dawns on her: he's not going slow because he _wants_ to; he's going slow because he's afraid of hurting her. "You can go as fast as you want. As hard as you want too."

"Are you—"

"And, yes, I'm sure."

"Thank god." Brittany's ass feels amazing, and holding back was killing him. Not that he goes _all_ out right away; he picks up the pace gradually, just to make sure she really is okay. He knows for sure she really is when, after several minutes, she whines and says, "Come on, Sammy. Nail my ass like you nail my pussy."

Yeah, Brittany's not quite content with Sam's restraint anymore. Not when she _knows_ what he's capable of…and now _needs_ what he's capable of.

This time Sam doesn't ask if she's sure; he just tightens his grip on her hips and lets her have it.

It's so hot seeing her take it. She's such a champ. She does start to scream after a few minutes, but Sam knows her screaming well enough to know it's not from pain. "Are you gonna come, Britt?" he asks, astonished. "You gonna come from getting your ass fucked?"

"Yeah," Brittany huffs in between screams. She's not going to come _just_ from getting her ass fucked, but it is the ass-fucking that's made her need to rub her clit. "Yeah, I need to really bad."

"Oh, _fuck_!" Sam never gets tired of making Brittany come, but learning that he can do it from fucking her in the butt? It's enough to send him over the edge, and he feels himself releasing burst after burst of cum inside her.

The thick, warm blast shooting way up into the farthest recesses of her ass sets Brittany off. Her ass muscles clamp down on Sam's dick as her fingers fly back and forth across her clit; she whimpers into the pillow because she has no voice left to scream with.

They both collapse after orgasm, completely exhausted and fully sated. For the second time in as many nights, they fall asleep with Sam's dick still inside Brittany.

XOXOXO

"Can we just skip school and stay in bed all day today?" Brittany asks when the alarm rudely awakens them.

"I'd love to, babe," Sam agrees. "But aren't your parents getting home later this morning?" Sam's pretty sure Brittany's parents know he's sleeping with their daughter, but he still doesn't want them to catch him in the act.

"Yeah," Brittany concedes reluctantly. She sighs and adds, "I guess we'd better get dressed."

Brittany has no trouble getting dressed, but Sam…well, his only pair of pants is still outside. And there were storms most of the weekend—not that either of them especially noticed at the time, but now his jeans are soaked and tangled in the rosebushes. Brittany manages to untangle them, breaking off several branches in the process. She takes them into the laundry room and throws them in the dryer.

The dryer is old and it wobbles a lot when it's running, which gives Brittany an idea. Well, it's not a new idea. She's sat on the dryer to masturbate before, and it's awesome, but she's never gotten fucked on top of the dryer before.

Sam doesn't take much convincing. He does protest that it'll make them late for school, but Brittany points out that they have to wait for his pants to dry anyway.

Brittany sheds her spanks and panties and hops up on top of the dryer. It's like sitting on top of a giant vibrator.

Sam has a little trouble figuring out how he's going to fuck her. There's not enough room for both of them up there unless she were to sit in his lap, but it's clear she's enjoying being right on top of the shaking appliance way too much to entertain that suggestion. The top of the dryer is too high for him to be able to just stand in front of it between her legs, unless…Okay, there's a hamper that's probably not exactly designed to be stood on, but it seems pretty study (as hampers go) and looks about the right height (if he lays it on its side), and he thinks it'll work.

It's pretty awkward, and he nearly falls a couple times, but Brittany comes really quickly. As much as he'd like to think it's because he's just that good, Sam's pretty sure it's more from the dryer than from him. Under normal circumstances he'd keep going and make her come a couple more times, but that seems almost guaranteed to end in injury under the actual circumstances.

Brittany pouts when he pulls out of her and gets down. "You didn't even come," she says.

"I didn't want to break my neck," Sam says. "Or your mom's hamper. Maybe we can finish somewhere else?"

"No, I've got a better idea. Trade places with me!"

She hops down, and Sam takes her place on top of the dryer. It feels kind of…yeah, okay, he can see why she likes it up here. He's thinking he should scoot back a little to make it easier for her to climb on top of him, when she drops her head in his lap instead and starts sucking him.

The dryer's vibrations don't do quite as much for Sam as they did for Brittany. But then, Brittany is sucking his dick—and not in the way she does when she's teasing, but in the way she does when she wants his cum in her mouth. So it's not long before he's on the brink.

And being on the brink as he is, not to mention all the noise he and Brittany and the dryer are making, it's perhaps not surprising that he doesn't hear the front door open.

But he does hear Brittany's mother yell, "Brittany Susan Pierce! What on earth did you do to Admiral Rodney!?"

Sam would have thought that hearing his girlfriend's mother refer to his dick by name would be enough to prevent him from coming in his girlfriend's mouth. But sometimes a guy is just so close that...well, that hearing his girlfriend's mother refer to his dick by name isn't enough to stop the inevitable. He recites "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," as he helplessly unloads.

Brittany collects all the warm, gooey goodness in her mouth, not lifting her head until she's sure she's got it all. She calls out, "What?" and then swallows.

"I asked what you did to Admiral Rodney!" her mother says, and she sounds a lot closer now. "Where are you? The laundry room?"

Sam just barely manages to pull his still-damp jeans out of the dryer and put them on before Mrs. Pierce throws open the door. "We trust you alone in the house for one weekend and this is what happens? It's a disgrace is what it is!" Sam feels his face burning up. His stomach drops and he thinks he's going to puke. Brittany's mother looks at him and…and smiles. "Hi, Sam," she says. "Did you have a good time this weekend?"

"Um…yeah. Thanks. I mean…hi...to you too."

"Please tell my daughter that Admiral Rodney is delicate and needs to be treated with care."

Sam breaks into a coughing fit.

"Honey, are you all right?" Mrs. Pierce asks. She pats him on the back. "Hold on a minute," she says before walking out of the laundry room.

Sam keeps coughing. He manages to stop just in time to start to ask, "How does she—"

But he can't finish the question because Brittany's mom is back. She's got a glass of water, which she hands to Sam, and one of the broken-off rosebush branches, which she holds accusingly in front of Brittany's face. "Just look what you did to him!"

"Sorry, Mom," Brittany says.

"Sorry doesn't heal Admiral Rodney," her mother says. "But still, I hope you said it to him and not just to me."

"I did," Brittany says. "I mean…I will. I promise."

"And say it like you mean it." Mrs. Pierce checks her watch. "Shouldn't you two be on your way to school?"

"Yep, we were just about to leave," Brittany says. "We just have to finish up one quick thing in here first." Namely, she has to put back on the spanks and panties that she kicked behind the hamper right before her mother busted in on them.

"Okay, well don't be late. Your father and I have been driving all night, so I'm going to bed. Don't forget to say sorry to you-know-who on your way out."

"Okay, Mom. Good night!"

As soon as they're alone again, Sam asks, "So…you named my dick after your mother's rosebush?"

Brittany shrugs. "Not exactly. I just thought it was a stupid name for a flower but an awesome name for your cock."

"Oh, okay. And Henriette?"

"Same. She's out back, though."

"Oh."

"I mean, come on. Doesn't the name Baronne Henriette de Snoy make you think of my pussy and not some stupid bush? I mean…" Brittany starts to giggle at her own inadvertent use of the word _bush_.

"Okay, yes," Sam concedes. "I'll never hear that name without thinking of your junk. And I'll never hear Admiral Rodney without thinking of mine. In fact, whenever I hear either one I'll be thinking of my junk _inside_ your junk."

Brittany sighs. "You're so romantic, Sammy."

"As romantic as Rodney?"

"Way, way more."


End file.
